


Watch A Cat Dance

by Bass0peration



Series: Shared Walls [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Neighbor au, dancer!Kuroo, gamer!Kenma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-05
Packaged: 2018-05-11 14:11:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5629330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bass0peration/pseuds/Bass0peration
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kenma is inexplicably drawn to his new neighbor who works strange hours, lies sometimes, and has the greatest smile he's ever seen in his life. Kuroo, a somewhat disgruntled ex-ballet dancer, seems to have a big secret. A friendship blossoms and some truths come out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Few Doors

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins, as most things do, with an unexpected sound, an unusual visitor, and a fair amount of firsts.

**Day 1**

I answered the pounding at my door, scowling at whoever was so unbalanced that they would do so at 3 in the fucking AM. I wrenched open the door, only to end up scowling at a wall of black fabric. Correction, that was a stranger’s chest, and he was wearing a black t-shirt. I stepped back, my heart already reacting to the panic that comes with a random stranger showing up at your door in the wee hours. My adrenaline/caffeine-fueled plans of telling the transgressor off for interrupting my game time were quickly making themselves scarce.

The stranger was easily 2 meters tall, more with his wild black hair. And, looking closer, he had to be using some kind of product. Hair doesn’t just _get_ that insanely spiky without _some_ kind of chemical intervention. He was like one of those ridiculously attractive characters from an RPG, all angles and sporting too many piercings per ear. Even his eyes played to the “hot protag” theme, leveling a very distracting earthy brown pair of irises in my direction. The effect was very attractive.  

For an uncouth ruffian.  

The tall intruder grinned, a smile that almost didn’t match the sheepish way he was rubbing the back of his neck.  

“Apologies,” he said, holding out a package. “I think this belongs to you.”

I shrank from him. It was bad enough that he was here at all, but the fact that the early morning visitor was smiling at me, offering me a mystery package, _and_ shorting out my brain with his appearance was enough to have me on high alert. And he seemed to notice that. One of his (oh my god it was almost perfectly arched) eyebrows quirked up into his purposely uneven fringe. The perfect questioning expression.

“You’re uh….” the man squinted at the package label. “Kenma?”

He looked up for approval.

I nodded slowly. He wanted a response, I had to say something but words stuck like like honey in my throat.

“Who….are you?” I forced it out.

“Ah! Sorry,” the stranger bowed his head in apology, though he was still smiling slightly. “Kuroo. I'm your neighbor as of,” he glanced at his watch. “last month.”

I thanked him and took my package, seeing now that the label was printed slightly larger than usual, and that my name was indeed printed on it. Now that he mentioned it, I did sort of remember Kuroo from about a month ago when he’d apparently been moving in.

“I'll see you ‘round Kenma-san.”

The last, he threw over his shoulder with another crooked smile and a wave.

Kuroo from next door. He was, as of this moment, the only person in my building I actually knew by name, excluding the super (who doesn’t count because he’s too scary to talk to). I was also fairly sure that he had been wearing eyeliner.

My newly discovered neighbor reminded me of a cat. A black cat, with messy fur puffed up all over it, a glint of mischief in his glowing brown eyes.

 

The package that had been delivered to me by my insomniac goth neighbor, Kuroo, contained a new headset. Finally. I ordered this weeks ago, and hadn’t had the guts to call the shipping company when the delivery time they promised doubled. I’d almost hoped it would be something exciting like a mysterious relic or a bomb or something. Almost. That would have made Kuroo an important character in this level of my life so far.

 

> **_Mysterious relic received from hot neighbor at 3am. Level up._ **

And now someone was knocking on my door again. It was only -- what -- 5 am? Shit. Nope. 10 am. Just raining, not dark. Fuck. Did I really need to answer that? As I lay there, planning to ignore whoever it was out there, the knocking came again. _Ugh_. Whoever it was, they weren’t going to leave me alone until I did something about it. I leapt out of bed, scrambling to answer the door, only narrowly avoiding my second complete wipeout of the day. Next order of business, go down the “I’m opening my door in 10 seconds” checklist.

Shirt, present. Hair -- I checked the bathroom mirror -- tangled. _Whatever_ . There was no drool on my face, I was clothed, and I looked like I just woke up. Which was appropriate. Because I had just woken up. The visitor knocked again. _Please don’t be a criminal,_ I begged as I squinted through the peephole. All I could see was an ear. It had a lot of metal in it. But it was framed by dripping, curly black hair.

Kuroo. I was sure of it. By now my heart was doing a little dance in my chest, alternatively leaping around and throwing itself against my ribcage like it wanted to escape my body.

 

> **_Rescue the visitor?_ **
> 
> **_Y/N_ **
> 
>  

My anxiety was kicking me in the shins as I undid the locks and threw the front door open to reveal a damp, showered version of the man I’d briefly met at an ungodly hour this morning.

_Dear gods, please give me a warning next time you send an attractive, disheveled man to my doorstep. I’m too young to die of a heart attack._

If any Powers That Be were within earshot when I made that prayer, they were most certainly not on my side at the moment

It might have been too early to classify the toothy, crooked smile (currently spreading across Kuroo’s face) as his signature, but it was certainly his natural state. That smile looked like it was pure mischief and gave the distinct impression that Kuroo was laughing at life in general. At least this time he was trying to reign it in, pursing his lips over that smile of his and staring at the floor.

“Do you mind if I come in?”

_What_?

Kuroo had plainly just woken up as well, his voice gave him away. Here he was, just out of bed -- perhaps the shower too -- and he was on my doorstep, asking to come in and biting back a grin. _What’s so funny?_ I wanted to know, but saying it out loud seemed a bit much. So I settled for the first one word question I could use as a suitable response.

“Why?” he murmured the challenge to his toes.

I hated myself for how much I wanted to look up at him. I wanted to see those eyes again. Nobody’s eyes were that great, this was obviously just one of my short-term infatuation things. Just a phase. Yeah. The less I let myself indulge in the good looks of this man who was _clearly_ out of my league, the happier I would be in the long run. I scowled, fully intending to stare at the floor until Kuroo decided to go be gorgeous and intriguing elsewhere.

“So you can close the door,” Ugh. Why were other guys allowed to have sexy wake-up voice? Strange request, though. “Nice undies by the way, Kozume.”

_Shit._

Sure enough, I was standing there, door wide open, my bottom half covered only by a pair of Tikachu boxer-briefs.

I slammed the door in Kuroo’s grinning face.

A muffled yelp filtered through from the other side. _Shitt._ Even though I could feel regret and sympathy joining anxiety to pummel me, I couldn’t stop. I had to find pants. Any pants. C’mon. I still had to face that weirdo outside my door, and now he was possibly injured, so time was of the essence. Anything would do. Shōyō's sweatpants from his last visit? Perfect.

_He’s gonna hate you. First you flash him, then you break his nose? No. I didn’t break his- what if I broke his nose. He’s gonna hate me._

I couldn’t make myself move back toward the door. All I could do was stand there, frozen in the middle of my own flat, shaking and staring at the spot where I knew an inch of wood separated me from a man who had just seen me in my most embarrassing underwear. _Please tell me I didn’t manage to destroy his face._ That would be absurdly unlucky, even for me.

When I finally managed to shakily open the door, Kuroo was still outside. Leaning against the side of the building, gingerly checking his nose for signs of injury or blood. Guilt dealt me a gut-punch.

“Shit,” Kenma mumbled. “Um, yeah please come in….Kuroo-san”

Kuroo stared, his (absurdly distracting) eyes crinkled above the smile that was still pulling at his lips. Forget signature, I was beginning to think the smile was actually permanent. Although, it did change to convey different emotions. For now, I decided to classify Kuroo’s upturned lips as Bemused. The knot that had been twisting in my stomach was fraying the seams of my limited bravery.  

 

> **_Retreat?_ **
> 
> **_Y/N_ **

 

“If- if you want,” I said, somehow managing to speak even quieter. “You don’t have to….”

The words fizzled and died in my mouth just as tall/dark/handsome opened his.

“Yeah, ok.”

 

> **_The stranger accepts your offer._ **

“I really just came to apologize for waking you up earlier, but let’s do Meet The Neighbors,” Kuroo said, dropping his hand from his face. He pantomimed removing a business card from his pocket and bowed, handing his invisible credentials to me with a flourish. “Kuroo Tetsuro. I’m pleased to make your acquaintance.”

I felt my lips twitch up involuntarily. What a ham.

“Kozume Kenma,” I said. “But everyone just calls me Kenma.”

“Perfect,” Kuroo beamed. “‘Cause everyone just calls me Kuroo.”

As Kuroo stepped over my threshold (this time avoiding a blow to the face) he gave me another look at his killer smile, this time it was friendly. Being a rational man of 24, I completely lost my shit, but tried my hardest not to show it.

“So, Kenma-san,” Kuroo called. “Is glasses-kun really the super of this building or is just the pissy grandson of the basement tenant?”

_Deep breath, Kenma. This is going to be easy._

“Super…”

_Ok, not as easy as I thought._

 

**Day 3**

I really, really liked Akihabara. I just hated going there.

_That doesn’t explain why you’re standing on Kuroo’s doorstep._

I clenched my fist. I’d tried, really tried to convince myself that it wouldn’t be bad, but the fact was that this wasn’t going to be like my average trip to Akiba. It wasn’t going to be a quick in and out of my favorite electronics vendors and a few terrifying conversations with the clerk at the game shop.

This trip was for Shōyō. And while Shōyō sort of understood my limitations, he didn’t really comprehend exactly what he was asking me to do. I was kicking myself for allowing myself to be roped into a promise I couldn’t get out of. I’d even said yes before he'd told me what he wanted. Fatal mistake.

* * *

 

 

> smallgiant: i need u to tlk 2 the mnger 4 me
> 
> smallgiant: he want 2 meet irl/ i missed the train
> 
> loki5: tlk? mnger?? learn to type shoyo
> 
> smallgiant: o(｀◇´)○ SO MEAN
> 
> smallgiant: tlk= talk and mngr= manager
> 
> loki5: no
> 
> smallgiant: KENMA PLS
> 
> smallgiant: kenma i’m desperate
> 
> smallgiant: i’ll get you a copy of that foreign game you want
> 
> loki5: ...fine.

* * *

So now I was standing in front of Kuroo’s place, staring at the bell, trying to get my courage up to ask him. Shōyō had asked me to go into a crowded, busy, cluttered place to talk to a stranger. He needed me to be coherent and to say the right thing, he needed me to negotiate. Above all, he needed me not to run away.

_I don’t want to go alone_.

I was shaking like a leaf.

This was typical, just typical of me, to have so few friends that my last and only resort was a man I’d only kind of met two days ago. I shut my eyes tight, taking a shaky breath in a vain attempt to calm my hammering heart. It was either ring this door and ask Kuroo to come with me or face the manager alone. And I wasn’t really sure which option was more terrifying.

 

> **_Do you knock on the door? Y/N_ **
> 
>  

Before I could make my decision, the door slammed open.

Which didn’t even seem like it should be possible, doors usually slammed closed. However, the person who made this particular door slam open didn’t look like he was usually bothered by anything people thought, or indeed what should be possible within the realm of the rational universe. Standing squarely in the space where Kuroo’s front door had been moments before was a wild-looking man.

Height-wise, I judged he was actually rather close to Kuroo’s height (especially if you included his hair in the measurement), but more solidly built. Tanned skin, expressive eyebrows, intense grey irises staring at me from under a shock of gelled whitish hair. I could feel myself trembling, inching backward, but I couldn’t take my eyes off his imposing presence. He exuded a sort of loudness as he stood there, all clashing colors and patterns on clothes that were out-of season for the brisk autumn air. He had, evidently, been in the middle of brushing his teeth when he’d suddenly felt the need to open his door and stare at me like that.

The stranger scratched his head. _This guy is like a walking cartoon,_ I thought. I was about to turn tail and make a break for it when he attempted to communicate through his mouthful of toothpaste. And toothbrush too.

“MMPH. Mm’hmm hmmgmph-”

“Oi, numbskull,” a familiar voice drifted out of the apartment behind the gesticulating stranger. Kuroo walked silently, not quite graceful, but well coordinated. Especially given the overwhelming evidence that he had just rolled out of bed to confront the person standing in his door.

Exhibit A: Kuroo Tetsurou was wearing nothing but athletic shorts.

Exhibit B: Exquisite just-woke-up gravelly voice.

Exhibit C: Rubbing sleep out of his eyes still.

“Do you mind closing the door, bro?” Kuroo griped. “I don’t appreciate being woken up by a draft AND your stupid, loud-”

Kuroo blinked.

“Kenma.”

I took another step away from the door and the two men standing in it. My eyes kept wandering over to Kuroo’s bare chest.

“I- I was just… l-leaving, I...” my eyes strayed to the neighbor who was least dressed again. Kuroo’s legs were fantastic.

_Stop that,_ I shook my head viciously, forcing myself to stare across the street at the train tracks.

“S-sorry for the intrusion. I’ll just-”

“He’s almost as cute as Akaashi.”

The loud guy had evidently swallowed his toothpaste.

I could feel the blush creeping up over my neck and cheeks. I had to get out of here, it was too much to deal with. Asking for Kuroo’s help here had been a mistake.

I couldn’t see Kuroo, but heard him moving around and then speaking.

“No, hang on. Gimme a sec,” then the sound of a scuffle, a few muffled protests from the loud guy. “Bokuto and me need to have a talk. I’ll be right back.”

The door slammed. Shut this time.

 

> **_You’re alone now. Flee?_ **
> 
> **_Y/N_ **
> 
>  

Was this venture even worth it anymore? As if he could hear my thoughts, Kuroo stuck his head back outside.

“Don’t leave, my roommate is a bit much, I’m sorry if he offended you.”

_huh._

Within minutes, Kuroo was back outside, appropriately (even almost fashionably) attired, and holding a squirming Roommate/Idiot Bokuto by the shoulder. Firmly.

“Apologies for my earlier undress, Kenma,” he was smiling, but his expression betrayed a slight embarrassment. There was forced humor in his voice. “Meet my soon-to-be-ex-roommate Bokuto.” Then, mocking, “Bokuto what do we say to visitors we surprise and then shout at without introduction?”

“Why am I your soon-to-be-ex anything? ARE YOU KICKING-”

Kuroo wheeled on his friend, his smile growing fiercer.

“Haah? Did you forget you’re moving out to be with pretty-boy upstairs?”

The reaction was immediate and dramatic. In true cartoon fashion, Bokuto froze, his face falling into the perfect “oh,” which he then voiced. And the rebound was just as spectacular. He almost seemed to sparkle.

“Haha, you’re right!” Bokuto was gleeful. Then he became serious and got way too close to me, whispering, “It’s not an insult, by the way, saying you’re not as cute as my boyfriend. Akaashi is just very hot.”

Before I could process that, Bokuto was gone, sprinting up the stairs to the floor above, shouting something about kissing a beautiful person.

“Oh for the love of- HE’S AT WORK YOU SIMPLETON,” Kuroo roared upward.

Bokuto sprinted past again, heading for the street.

“What an idiot,” Kuroo muttered, staring at Bokuto’s back as he quickly put distance between them. Then he smiled at me and I stopped thinking.  

The moment played in slow motion, with my better judgement grousing about how _cliche_ this was and _unoriginal_ blah blah blah. My heart, however, (aka my worse judgement) wasn’t listening anymore. It was too busy watching Kuroo’s lips move around an apologetic grin, too busy recalling exactly how muscular I’d recently discovered my neighbor was under that faded t-shirt. I was getting completely lost in his eyes as he smiled at me. In slow motion. And then I watched him raise an eyebrow, his voice still lost to me, but his face was saying “are you there?”

My better judgement shook me back to real life.

“Sorry, what?”

Kuroo chuckled. “I said,” he stretched the word out, leaning into me slightly. “We have to stop meeting like this, Kenma.” Kuroo was teasing me. But only a little bit.

Oddly, I didn’t mind as much as I had when Bokuto had invaded my space.

“And then I said ‘You still there,’” Kuroo went on, calling it over his shoulder as he turned to close his door. “Because you were staring at me, and even I’m not that fascinating, so I figured you zoned out.”

Now Kuroo’s grin tugged at a different place in my chest.

_Yes you are._

“Anyway,” Kuroo ran a hand through his unruly hair. Today it was more natural-looking. A relaxed version of the enhanced bedhead he’d achieved by sleeping on gel the day before. His hair was wavy, raven, cut a bit uneven so that it hung over his face. The shorter bits at the back and around one side of his head curled up and stuck out in points. “You looking for me, neighbor? What’s up?”

This was it. I took a deep breath.

 

It was a bit unreal, walking with Kuroo. First, because I couldn’t quite believe that it was actually happening, in real life. Second, because Kuroo looked very _very_ good. He’d grabbed a bright colored varsity-style jacket from his place before setting off from his apartment like this was the most natural thing in the world. Finally, Kuroo was somehow managing to do the lionshare of the talking while still involving me in the conversation.

Kuroo let out a low whistle as I mumbled my way through the short version of what had happened this morning and what I’d promised Shōyō.  

“Must be some game, huh?” Then he laughed. “So this friend of yours- Hinata, right?”

I nodded.

“He really overslept and missed his train?” Kuroo laughed again. Another pedestrian glanced up at the sound. It was not an unpleasant sound, Kuroo had a nice laugh, but I flinched all the same. He glanced at me, lowering his voice a bit, “Is he always such a harebrain?”

I glared up at Kuroo, my hackles rising in defense of Shōyō's honor. We’d been in contact since high school, making him my oldest friend. No matter who it was, speaking like that about Shoyo was unacceptable. It didn’t matter how dreamy Kuroo’s eyes were, or how much I loved his smile, or appreciated how he adjusted his volume to set me at ease. My friend was off-limits.

“You can talk,” I muttered under my breath. “Mister 3 am delivery service.”

“Heh,” Kuroo grinned. “I did apologize for that, didn’t I? But point taken. I’ll quit taking shots at Hairbrain Hinata.”

Irritation rose in my chest. I didn’t respond. Even though Kuroo had surprised me by even hearing my last remark, he hadn’t stopped making fun of Shōyō. Kuroo’s true colors were beginning to shine through. Perhaps he was just as much of a troublemaker as he looked.

We walked down the steps to the metro station, Kuroo talking idly about Bokuto and the sorts of trouble he got into because of his roommate. I was still keeping my mouth shut. Kuroo seemed perfectly content to talk just to fill space, and I wasn’t in any mood to converse with him at the moment. When we reached the platform, relief washed over me. I’d timed it well, the station was nearly empty.

Kuroo stopped talking for a moment when the two of us came to a stop on the platform. I stole glances at him as he moved restlessly, rocking on his heels, checking his phone, squinting to read the signs that predicted the arrival of the next train in 60 seconds.

I waited a moment, considering whether or not to speak.

“Shōyō is,” I murmured it to my phone instead of looking at Kuroo,“A character, I guess. He’s not exactly ‘harebrained’ really he just has kind of weird habits and a cool way of looking at the world.”

“So,” Kuroo’s voice smacked of the grin that was currently occupying his face. “You’re a good friend, and Hinata Shōyō is a harebrained young man.”

Frustration crackled in my chest. I could see myself scowling in the reflection of my phone’s screen. _Deep breath, Kenma. Don’t waste energy on this._

“How’d you meet this guy,” Kuroo asked, his voice lazy and disinterested.

“Online,” I said. _Crap._ All I’d managed to do was give Kuroo exactly what he wanted, an opportunity to dismiss Shōyō again. I quickly followed that with,“We’ve worked together in the past.”

The train came into the station, opening the doors to let off the majority of the people on board. Another wave of relief for me, there would be plenty of room.

I felt Kuroo move next to me, instinctively moving to let him pass, but he slowed his pace when I did, waiting for me. He made sure I was with him at every step, silently reacting to my movements and adjusting his own to suit. Everything he did was so fluid.

I chose some seats away from the rest of the passengers.

I began to realize that, much like his roommate Bokuto, Kuroo’s thoughts were visible, but reading them required more finesse on my part. Where Bokuto was cartoonish, Kuroo was simply candid. The resulting aura of reassuring reality that Kuroo gave off was likely unintentional, or perhaps it wasn’t even visible to people who were more accustomed to human interaction.

Or maybe, I was only imagining it. Maybe Kuroo was a demon that tricked humans into befriending him by parading around as a gorgeous man. His wild hair was dark enough and even stuck up enough to hide horns. I peered at Kuroo’s tousled head suspiciously.

Kuroo was snapping his fingers by my face. I jumped slightly, realizing I had been staring too much again.

“Jeez, you stare at everyone’s bedhead like that?” Kuroo’s smile was there again, playful this time. “I know it’s bad, but you were looking at it like it might be up to something.”

Oops.

The conversation continued, courtesy of Kuroo’s ever-curious mind and his ability to talk enough for two people (and to forgive my general lack of social skills).

“So what do you do, Ken-boy? I’m assuming it has something to do with that computer setup you’ve got in your place.”

I couldn’t even disguise my disgust at the nickname he’d used. Kuroo just grinned again and put up his hands in surrender. He still wanted a response though. I busied myself with my phone, steeling myself to answer.

“Officially, I’m a game developer. But mostly I’m a tester.”

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Kuroo looking at me. His body language and gaze said ‘I’m interested.’ But when I didn’t elaborate, he leaned back, resting his head against the window. Most likely he had shut his eyes too.

“And what’s a tester?”

The question startled me, pulling my attention from my game and onto my companion. He was leaning against the window still, but his eyes were open a crack. He was still listening. But something about Kuroo’s eyes kept distracting me. At first I’d thought his sleepy appearance was just part of his personality, that it came part and parcel with his infuriating grin, but up close, he just looked very tired. What I’d first assumed were the smudged remnants of eyeliner under his eyes looked more like dark circles at this distance.

I felt my eyebrows pull together, wondering for the first time why Kuroo had been awake at 3am that day.  

Not like I cared. I didn’t.

“Sorry, did you say? What’s a tester? I zoned out for a second.”

I shook myself, looking away from his face, back to my phone.

“I try out new games before they come out, then I tell the company if I found any bugs,” I mumbled. I was hoping Kuroo would leave it at that.

“So you get payed to play games all day?” He sounded equal parts amused and impressed. “You must be good.”

Keeping my face still, I shrugged. I knew I was.

“Quiet, employed, good with computers, cute, and modest to boot,” Kuroo murmured, his voice was teasing. He was teasing. “You’ll make some lucky, nerdy girl very happy some day.”

“Unlikely,” I breathed the word. I didn’t really go in for the nerdy girls, if history was anything to go by. I was more into attractive males who usually wanted nothing to do with me.

Kuroo didn’t seem to hear that one.

The two of us lapsed into silence.

Just as I was beginning to get worried that Kuroo had really fallen asleep this time, he grunted.

“Ugh, I need to talk, or I’m gonna pass out,” Kuroo blinked sleepily and stretched, careful not to hit me. “Ah, we were talking about harebrain Hinata.”

I made a point of ignoring him. Kuroo could fall asleep for all I cared, people like him were just the worst. He was quick to judge, and stubborn. He was loud, self-assured, and never serious.

But at the same time, he was considerate. He was funny, even self-deprecating. He was patient, and he listened when I talked. He was just easy to be around.

Simply infuriating that one person could be all that.

Kuroo tugged gently at my jacket, pulling my attention away from my thoughts and eyes up from my phone.

“Ok, I’m sorry for the harebrain Hinata thing. I can stop.” He was sitting upright now, begging me to talk to him with eyes saying ‘I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean it like that. Help me out please.’

“Uh, there’s not much to tell, really. We were freelancing for the same company,” I allowed myself to smile, remembering how Shōyō had been the first time we played together. “He sort of sucks.”

Kuroo snorted. I bristled, kicking myself for saying that out loud.

“Shut up. Like he’s good enough, he earns points or whatever, and he’s an above-average strategist in a pinch. He just-” Kenma pondered how to explain it.

“He doesn’t play like a gamer.”

I rambled for a bit, forgetting myself and my surroundings. I just talked. I explained how Shōyō approached in-game situations as if they were occurring in real life, how it lead him to pursue unique (and sometimes wildly successful) approaches. I told Kuroo about how hard-working Shōyō was, and how sometimes he forgot about things he had to do in the morning and stayed up too late working on projects. I may have even made some kind of comment about how I hoped Shōyō's boyfriend hadn’t had anything to do with today’s mix-up.

Kuroo was smiling at me. He probably thought he was hiding it behind his hand, but his eyes gave him away. Dork.

“What?” I asked, suddenly self conscious. “S-sorry.”

I felt the old urge, the make-yourself-smaller urge, rushing right back.

“No, it’s cool,” Kuroo waved a hand, dismissing the apology. He absently glanced at the train’s display as he continued. “I like hearing people talk about things that make them excited. They get all glowy.”

_He wasn’t laughing at me?_

“So is Hin- uh, Shōyō- um,” Kuroo seemed to be searching for the right words. He turned back to Kenma with mischief in his smile. “You’re on first-name basis with him, huh?”

Kuroo’s eyebrows made his meaning very clear.

I felt the blood rising to my face again as I tried to stammer out some kind of “No,” or maybe even, “Don’t be silly,” but I’m fairly sure all I managed was a shake of the head.

I felt Kuroo’s shrug against my arm. “I’ve always gone by my last name, me.”

The doors slid open. The empty seats in the car quickly disappeared.

_Deep breath, stupid Kenma. They won’t bite you._

Despite my compelling mental discourse, I felt my nervous and unruly heart drum even faster. The frantic striking of wooden clappers in my chest, foreshadowed the appearance of a stranger in his little kabuki play. An old woman entered the train.

The Hyōshigi stopped as the woman wandered in my direction. I knew what came next. Silence signals that a character is about to speak. I gripped the edge of my seat, preparing myself. _Stand up,_ I couldn’t. This train was a Kabuki play and I was frozen. _Deep breath, then stand up._

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Kuroo was standing. “You can have my seat.”

I blinked. Hadn’t Kuroo just used the wrong honorific? He had been plenty respectful, but what was with implying the lady was young? The old woman eyed Kuroo distrustfully, muttering something about deviants and empty flattery as she took the seat he’d given up. I knew she would spend the rest of her journey pretending to read her book.

My companion didn’t seem bothered by this sudden silence. Kuroo seemed to get the message when I slipped on my headphones, closing his eyes for the remainder of the journey. His face was expressionless as he swayed with the train, allowing the turns to move him just enough to compensate. I had a sudden image of Kuroo, asleep on a bucking bull, making it look easy. _It’s like he’s in low power mode._

I didn’t pay very much attention to my phone when he was standing there.


	2. Iceberg Liar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kuroo is who he appears to be, but he is more than who he likes to admit.

**Day 3 (part deux)**

The business part of the trip passed in a sort of stressful blur. I insisted (against my worse judgement) that Kuroo stay outside when I met with Shōyō’s cafe manager, and as a result the whole affair was shitty, nervewracking, and awkward. Fortunately, the guy thought all of this was completely usual and a bit funny (evidently he’d met Shōyō before) and the meeting went rather well. (The whole staff of OddBall Productions was slated to do a series of special live events at this cafe in a few weeks.)

It was then that I got my first glimpse at Kuroo Tetsurou’s iceberg life. I was walking up the stairs from my awkwardly successful meeting with the manager, looking forward to seeing my human security blanket again, but I pulled up short when I saw Kuroo’s face. He was leaning against the building, not five feet away, scowling at the pavement and talking on the phone.

The moment he saw me, a grin snapped back onto his face and he waved, but then the person on the other end of the phone must have said something, because the smile became a grimace. I approached warily, watching his face as he began to make a retort to whoever was pissing him off.

“Well, _sweetheart,_ ” Kuroo hissed, his voice all venom and honey. “I think I’d rather fucking die than help you for a single second -- oh that’s real fucking smart Oikawa, how many months you been thinking that one up? -- Fuck you. Oh and tell Iwaizumi I said he deserves better.”

Kuroo looked like he wanted to throw the phone as he snapped it shut, the tension in his jaw and shoulders still obvious even after he turned to greet me verbally. He just looked wrong. Up until this point he’d made every single movement appear effortless, the stiff way he was carrying himself right now didn’t suit him.

I took a shot at nonchalant conversation, but I’m sure I missed the mark.

“Who was that?”

“Oh, just a coworker,” Kuroo shoved his phone in his pocket, carefully measured tone not matching his body language. The false smile stretched further, becoming more like a grimace. This lie was meant to be noticed. Sarcasm.

“He’s a real treat,” Kuroo muttered.  

I nodded, feigning satisfaction with his non-answer. I was beginning to realize that, while Kuroo spoke more on any given day than I did in a year, he never said much. He’d somehow managed to gain my trust without telling me much more than his name and address.

He was an iceberg in the waters where I sailed, and any sane captain would have given him a wide berth. But this iceberg was really, really nice to me. And hot.

“Hey, since you survived being Hinata’s proxy, let’s celebrate,” Kuroo said, trying to sound cheerful again. “Let’s do something else that scares you.”

That earned him a raised eyebrow from me. But when I looked at his face, I knew he wasn’t joking.

“Um, pass,” I muttered, trying to step past him. I needed time to absorb this new side of Kuroo I’d just seen. I got the distinct feeling he hadn’t wanted me to witness it.

Suddenly Kuroo was an obstacle, his hands on my shoulders, arresting all forward motion on my part.

“Seriously,” Kuroo was returning to his usual self, eyes sparkling with earnest excitement. “C’mere.”

He pulled me into a deserted alley of Gachapon. Kuroo’s face had lost all traces of falseness; he was back to his usual, mischievous self. Even though I was planning to rebuff Kuroo’s most recent request, I was glad to see he’d calmed down. It was really remarkable, the control he seemed to have over his own emotional state (once he was free of whatever stimulus had caused the change). I didn’t really like Kuroo when he was upset.

He was still overwhelming when he was his usual self, but that was more my fault than anything. I crouched, pretending like I was interested in one of the machines. Honestly, I was just trying to put a little bit of psychological space between myself and Kuroo’s intense eyes.

_Ugh, no wonder this alley is empty_. The machines were all full of kitschy stickers that read “ba-dump!!” or “doki doki” or some other gross shit from gushy manga. Even tourists were unwilling to spend a few hundred yen on dumb, single-use products.

The irony was almost laughable. Coincidences like these should be relegated to fiction, but there I was, staring at a machine full of manga love tropes, avoiding eye contact with the man who made my own heart go “doki doki.”

“Listen, you woke me up to come with you,” I glanced up at Kuroo, who backpedaled frantically under my gaze. “I’m not complaining! It’s been fun. I got to know you a little better, and I got to hear about your friends and your work, and your face when I called that woman ‘young lady’ was _priceless_ , by the way. Fucking priceless.”

Kuroo chuckled softly, shaking his head as if the events of an hour ago were already fond memories. And then, damn him, he crouched down next to me and made a really big point of making eye contact.

_Can you make sure I know you’re being sincere some other, less attractive way, please?_

I averted my eyes, pretending like I might actually want one of the stickers. Kuroo didn’t budge. Dammit. Now I had to take the charade even further, actually fishing out 200¥ and feeding it (oh so reluctantly) into the machine. I wondered idly what sticker I would get.

_You just paid 200¥ to avoid looking a hot person in the eye, Kenma._

Ignoring my obnoxiously truthful inner monologue, I turned the wheel of the machine, listening for the exact moment when the capsule would drop into the dispenser chute.

“Don’t think I don’t know exactly why I’m here, Kenma.”

**Thunk**. The capsule fell. Which was odd because I was pretty sure that time stopped. That, or I stopped breathing.

_Think, Kenma._ Had I really been staring enough that he wanted to confront me?

“People scare the shit out of you,” Kuroo murmured.

Time resumed its usual march forward, and I heaved a sigh of relief. If my luck held out, Kuroo might interpret that as a _‘I didn’t want to admit that’_ sigh instead of an _‘oh good he can’t tell I’m head over heels for him’_ sigh. It helped that he was mostly right. His attractiveness was making me jumpy.

“Anxiety?” Kuroo wasn’t looking at me. He was staring at the bricks.

I nodded anyway. I didn’t feel like talking anymore. Kuroo glanced over at me, cool as ever.

“You just nod? I didn’t see.”

Another nod. I really, really didn’t trust myself to say anything out loud.  

“So here’s what I think,” Kuroo said, looking back at the wall. “I’m already here, you seem to trust me a fair amount. I’d guess this is fairly unusual for you, considering it’s been a relatively short amount of time, how guarded you are, and how freaked you were with Bokuto. Also, you seem to really treasure your long-distance friendship with Hinata, so I’d guess you don’t have many friends in the area.”

He glanced in my direction, saying, “No offense.”

Kuroo went on, and now I was the one looking at him as he stared at his hands.

“So since I’m already here,” he began slowly, meeting my gaze out of the corner of his eye. “And you don’t seem to want to bolt whenever I talk to you, why don’t I take you somewhere you’d enjoy being if it weren’t so fucking terrifying.”

A long pause stretched between us. I fidgeted, finally remembering my sticker in the machine, and retrieved it. Kuroo stood suddenly.

“I’m completely willing to act as a buffer between you and the rest of the unruly mob out there,” Kuroo grinned, giving me a cheesy salute. This was how I liked him, full of jokes and energy and honest good-intentions.

 

 

> _**After that long, refreshing adventure, you return home…. !!! ... But what is this? An unopened capsule. You are curious to see the contents. Open the capsule.** _
> 
> _**...** _
> 
> _**Congratulations! You got a Cherry Blossom Petal sticker! It’s very cute.** _

 

I flopped over sideways, still clutching that stupid sticker like it might hold some kind of secret to decoding Kuroo’s hidden life. The last two hours were playing on repeat inside my skull. Kuroo trying on a hoodie that had ears on it while I snapped a picture. Me, visiting the tiny vintage game shop that I only avoided because of tourists. I finally picked up the LEDs I needed to finish making my computer setup look awesome. Kuroo and I playing stupid arcade games for little stuffed animals that almost always slipped right out of the claw.

I especially liked the part where I won a toy from an anime Kuroo adored, and the part that came after. When I gave it to him and he spent twenty minutes trying to repay the favor. Failing to do so, he proclaimed he now owed me lunch.

Groaning, I rolled to bury my face in the blankets. It wasn’t fair, how excited it made me that he’d promised to hang out with me again. My brain was almost finished replaying the events of this afternoon, slowing down as it reached the end. 

_“So you have a coworker, which means you’ve got a job.”_

_“Give the man a prize!”_

_“What do you do?”_

_“Well, dearest Kenma-who-has-a-job-he-actually-likes. I am not as lucky as some people, who just play video games all day to finance a career in making up new video games. I, Kuroo Tetsurou, put my countless years of ballet training and degree in Performing Arts to great use. I am, of course, a bartender.”_

_“Ballet?”_

_“Yeah. Evidently 18 years of experience with a decent company, and a near flawless audition don’t mean jack shit when your looks aren’t up to their standards. But hey, I’m pretty enough to d- mix drinks for strangers all night, and I get to break my toes a lot less.”_

The cherry blossoms were getting crushed in my fist, but I didn’t care. Everything about the way Kuroo had delivered the last sentence made me so angry. The way he stared at nothing, the false animation he’d pushed into his voice as he tried to make light of his comment. He had spent 18 years of his life on perfecting a skill, just to be told that he couldn’t get a job because of his _appearance._

Honestly, I didn’t understand how anything about Kuroo could be seen as less than beautiful, and I hated that he’d been made to believe anything of the sort. To do something for 18 years, to dedicate a lifetime to one thing, Kuroo must have loved ballet. It was a part of his identity, Kuroo Tetsurou, nearly 2m tall, crazy dark hair, brown eyes, ballerina (were men ballerinas).

And now it wasn’t.

On the other hand, his statement bothered me because it was a lie. I rolled onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. Then at the wall across the room, the one I shared with Kuroo.

Maybe he’d let me into his iceberg life, tell me what he hid under the exposed facade that he paraded around the world with. Maybe I wouldn’t know until I slam the hull of my little boat into the hidden truth and sink beneath the surface of the waves. The fact was, I didn’t care that he lied.

I finally had a friend who I wouldn’t have to miss all the time. He went out of his way to help me be okay, and never once laughed at me for being afraid. On top of all that, he was rather nice to look at, so I planned to hold on for dear life.

 

> **_You decide to trust Kuroo._ **

I could overlook the fact that he wasn’t really a bartender.

 

**Day 4. Technically.**

Shōyō was doing it again. The whole “guwaaaah” voice thing where he acts super surprised that I managed to make friends. I sighed. Even though I knew he wasn’t faking, it was still a bit tiresome to have to hear the incredulity.

_Even though you know it’s true, you hermit._

“Sounds like you’re fascinated with this guy,” Kageyama’s distracted voice came over the line. I felt the heat rise in my cheeks. _Pin-point accuracy and a matter-of-fact tone,_ I shivered. And all of this, while meticulously editing my coding. Sometimes I forgot that, when he was working, Kageyama was scary intense. His mannerisms were less severe when he was just conversing normally, in fact, he’s more awkward than even I am sometimes. But right now, he’s in The Scary Zone, and he’s making astute observations about my feelings for Kuroo, so it’s hard to imagine him as anything other than a threat.  

“N-no,” how cliche of me. Stammering? Really? _Sound less love-struck, Kenma._ “He’s just, um. He has this way of commanding space. Like he knows he owns the ground he’s standing on or something. And he’s really easy to talk to, but he never forced me or anything. He made me want to or... something.”

Silence drifted through the headset. A quick glance at the video thumbnail in the bottom of my screen confirmed that the dark-haired man next to Shōyō was, indeed, nodding solemnly.

“So, you two geniuses get to work!” Hinata said, clapping his hands.

“Shut it,” Kageyama snarled. I couldn’t help flinching a little bit. “You couldn’t do this anyway, so why don’t you beat it, shrimpy?”

“Aww, you know you love me,” Shōyō’s voice was faint, plaintive. “Kenmaaaa, tell him I can stay while you two brainiacs do your thing.”

I didn’t really want to get in the middle of a domestic battle for dominance. And I sure as hell didn’t want to be the cause of one. _Better go for the diplomatic route._

I grunted noncommittally and launched the window I’d be working from for the next few hours, ready to listen to Kageyama’s suggestions. Working with him was a bit daunting, as he always seemed to be on the same wavelength as me, but could never keep his opinions on my decisions to himself. Sometimes I couldn’t believe he was actually younger than me, he had impressive technical mastery of game-building that was complemented by a seemingly innate ability to make code obey his every whim.

“Ah, I see. So you want this route to branch here and here…” Kageyama’s voice was low, thoughtful.

After a few hours, Kageyama checked his watch, and muttered that he had to be somewhere at 6, and to please excuse him. In the background, I heard Shōyō sniggering. Checking my own clock, I realized it was now nearly 4am. Whoops.

Leaning back in my chair, I took a deep breath, stretching in my seat. Shōyō seemed to have picked up the laptop. When he set it down, it was just a view of his bed that was soon dominated by my best friend’s energetic face. I couldn’t help smiling at his bouncy enthusiasm at this ungodly hour. Following his lead, I moved my laptop over to my own bed, and settled in for our usual up-all-night catch up session. Most days, we could last until dawn.

I wasn’t always as lucky.  

“So, Kenma.” He was staring at me expectantly, almost bouncing with the intensity of his impatience. “Tell me everything about Mr Neighbohr guy-”

“Kuroo.”

“Same difference, just tell me all about him. Is he tall? What is he like? OH does he…”

_How to describe Kuroo Tetsurou. The iceberg man, the dancing cat._

“Yeah...he’s pretty tall, I guess.”

_That’s real eloquent, Kenma, you’re a fucking poet._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (um....thank you so much for reading this? i love you.)  
> Okedoke! So, yeah, this was a pretty fast update. But I've gotta be completely honest, I'm in high school and I don't know how this is gonna work out (or if it is at all) so it might be a while on the next one. This is just the rest of what I had written already but in the wrong point of view. I'm sorry there's no intrigue yet, I was still testing the waters. It's coming, though. You can console yourself in the fact that I'm hilariously bad at cliffhangers so there probably won't be any, and this probably isn't so groundbreaking that you're dying to read the next chapter in the first place so idk why I'd need to tell you that at all. You don't need consoling  
> You're a strong independent [insert whoever you are here] who don't need no consoling from a n00b fanfic writer.  
> Anyhoo, I hope you're enjoying this fic so far, I've worked hard on it (I should really get someone else to edit it, and I will soon, so I'm sorry if there are any distracting errors, I'll fix them if you give me a heads-up).  
> This is where I put the standard request for feedback and promise that as a new poster I will do everything in my power to not suck (and an admission that I might not know how not to suck). This is also where I tell you I'm working on Kuroo's POV rightnow, but that I really should be doing other things, so it might be a while.  
> (If I get really frustrated with studying I'll make a playlist, you're all being super super nice, and I don't know how to thank you enough!)  
> p.s. OddBall Productions is Hinata and Kageyama and Yachi's entertainment company. Think Roosterteeth, but japanese, fictional, and made up entirely of Karasuno players. Please join me as I imagine what Let's Play videos would be like with Hinata and Kageyama working as a team. Ah. So good. Thank you for your patience.  
> p.p.s. I feel the need to explain how I'm writing Kenma and it goes like this. In my personal experience, clamming up in front of people and not liking large crowds or drawing attention doesn't mean your brain is completely consumed with freaking out. Also, people who have lived with things for a while get used to them. So while he notices the effects when he's on edge/high alert, they may not be as pronounced from his perspective when he's just sort of doing what he always does. So that's why there's a lot of thoughts going on inside his head, very fast because he's a perceptive/smart guy, and swearing because he's an adult and he can do as he pleases (honestly it's just a headcanon of mine, Kuroo cusses more, but Kenma's got a running commentary in his head and he has strong emotions even if he doesn't show them). So I hope it's ok.   
> I swear I'm not long-winded, I really just don't know how to behave now that I'm actually posting things instead of staring at them wistfully. This is new territory. I'll shut up now.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at actually posting something I've written, and I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave a comment, I welcome all criticism, notes, etc. I'll be continuing the story and developing Kuroo's point of view as often as I can.  
> Please let me know what you think!!!


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